Jenne Road in Reading will be closed to out-of-towners this fall, after residents reported complaints of blocked traffic, trespassing, and littering in past years. The location is a popular spot for leaf-peepers looking to take the perfect selfie or photo for social media.

The first half of this year was the hottest on record for Vermont, according to a new report from the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration.

Last year was a record breaking warm year for Burlington and St. Johnsbury, which saw their hottest years on record in 2023. This year could be another.

The Green Mountain State is not alone in this trend. Last year, dozens of cities across the Northeast saw their hottest years on record, and this past January through July was the second hottest period on record for the entire lower 48.

Warming temperatures affect Vermont in myriad ways. Data from the Vermont Department of Health shows the state sees more heat related emergency room visits on extremely hot days.

Additionally, Vermont sees more ER visits related to heat illness during years that are exceptionally hot. And the state has seen a steady uptick in ER visits for heat illness since 2003, though Vermont still sees relatively few deaths from heat exposure annually.

And many Vermont communities were flooded four times in the last year, all during events that scientists say were made worse by human caused climate change.

More from Vermont Public: Flash flooding tears through rural communities in Vermont’s Northeast Kingdom

People who live in cooler parts of the state, like the Upper Valley or Northeast Kingdom, aren’t immune to the impacts of warmer temperatures — in fact, the health department says people conditioned to cooler weather can be affected at lower temperatures, making those parts of the state especially vulnerable.

But a hotter than normal summer and spring also has implications for agriculture.

Timothy Hughes-Muse of Laughing Child Farm in Pawlet grows about 30 acres of sweet potatoes.

“Over the years, we’ve kind of moved things up ahead of schedule a little bit, just trying to kind of match what the season used to be like,” Hughes-Muse said. “So we’ll plant earlier and we start harvest earlier and so on.”

But this year, he says, the potatoes are exceptionally far along.

“It seems like it’s about 10 days ahead of schedule, in terms of how big the potatoes are and how fast things happen,” he said this week.

In general, Hughes-Muse says it’s getting easier to grow sweet potatoes in Vermont because they like warm summer nights, when the temperature is about 55 degrees Fahrenheit.

Vermont has seen an above average number of very warm nights since 2005, according to NOAA.

Jon Wagner of Bear Roots Farm in Williamstown has also noticed changes because of the heat this summer.

“We’re usually not harvesting until the end of August, into September, and we’re already pulling ripe pumpkins out of the field,” he said this week. “Same thing with our onion crop, that came in a month early.”

Wagner says last year they lost about 75% of their crop yield to flooding, so he welcomes the bumper year. And while this summer was abnormally warm overall, he says they didn’t see too many days above 90 degrees Fahrenheit, which is when a lot of leafy crops start to be hurt by the heat.

Still, Wagner says it’s getting harder for farmers to predict and adapt to the seasons as Vermont’s climate changes.

He says if beans and corn and tomatoes also ripen ahead of schedule, farms could find themselves short on crops to sell at the end of the season.

“It feels kind of like we’re on the front lines of it all,” he said.

Globally, NOAA says July marked the 14th straight month of record-high temperatures. The agency says there is a 75% chance that 2024 will be the warmest year on record, and scientists broadly agree that burning fossil fuels is the leading cause of this warming trend.

Additionally, most of the Atlantic Ocean saw its hottest January-July period ever, which forecasters say is one of the key factors fueling a particularly intense hurricane season.

Already the remnants of Hurricanes Beryl and Debby have caused flooding in Vermont, and hurricane season extends through the end of November.

Looking ahead to the next few months, NOAA is forecasting a warmer- and wetter-than-normal fall for Vermont and New England.

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Last week, in a small conference room at the town’s fire station, Whitehead placed a few sticky notes on a map to note the roads that were still too dangerous to fully open to the public. It was the start of yet another flood recovery effort in rural Vermont, a state that’s been pummeled by flood after flood in the last two years, including two last month.

The thoughts at top of mind for him and others: Why here, why now? And what are we going do?

State and local leaders are also asking tough questions about climate adaptation and what it means for the Green Mountain State. The questions span from the immediate: How to pay the cost of recovering the Vermont they knew; to the existential: Could towns be rebuilt differently, to limit flood risks, and should Vermonters retreat from the very rivers that life here has revolved around for centuries?

Across much of New England, heavy rain has become a hallmark of climate change. Vermont now experiences at least two more days of heavy precipitation per year than it did in the 1960s, most often in the summer, according to the state’s climate assessment. Annual precipitation in Vermont has increased by almost 7 inches since that time, and scientists expect the frequency and intensity of floods to increase here as climate change worsens.

It doesn’t help that Vermont, like much of northern New England, can get storms blown in from all directions due to prevailing winds and the state’s position below the jet stream, according to state climatologist Lesley-Ann Dupigny-Giroux and Globe meteorologist Ken Mahan. Nor does Vermont’s scenic topography help, with its rolling hills and mountains that easily allow water to gain power as it rushes down the slopes to meet roads, bridges, homes, and businesses in the valleys.

“Should we be doing something different, and should we be pulling back on some of this transportation infrastructure that we have?” said Beverley Wemple, director of the Water Resources Institute at the University of Vermont.

Millions of dollars were spent in Vermont on flood protections in the aftermath of Tropical Storm Irene which, in 2011, delivered 7 inches of rain. At least seven people died in Vermont and hundreds of miles of roads and bridges were damaged. In the following years, state regulators toughened standards for how to build roads, while environmental groups pushed town managers to address decrepit dams and undersized culverts.

Because of those efforts, Vermont’s infrastructure was likely better prepared this summer for floods than it was a little more than a decade ago, experts said. Still, many say that adaptation is not happening quickly enough, and in a largely rural state with more than 200 small towns managing limited budgets, floods seem to be happening faster than communities are able to recover.

“People are really starting to come to terms with the fact that we have a flood problem in this state,” said Lauren Oates, director of policy and governmental affairs for the Nature Conservancy in Vermont.

Across the state, at least 26 homes have been destroyed in Vermont so far this year in flood events and 121 suffered major damage, according to Amanda Wheeler, a spokesperson for the governor’s office who called that a “significant” number given the state’s housing shortage.

Much of that damage was inflicted by Hurricane Beryl which, in early July, caused what scientists call inundation flooding. Water pooled at the bottom of valleys like a bathtub as rivers overtopped their banks. Two people died and more than 100 were rescued.

Some St. Johnsbury residents colloquially call the Beryl event “Flood One.” Just three weeks later, “Flood Two” arrived. Flash flooding at the end of July came after heavy rainstorms left patchy destruction in their wake. (Little more than a week after that, the remnants of Hurricane Debby brought rain, wind damage, and power outages across Vermont, but flooding was limited.)

The vast majority of Vermont’s flood damage tends to occur within river corridors, but outside the floodplain, according to Oates. That means planners need to look beyond traditional flood maps to identify less obvious high-risk areas.

“If we keep building in these places, the next home you build in the river corridor is the next buyout that we, the taxpayers, have to pay for,” Oates said.

State lawmakers this year approved $45 million for hazard mitigation programs, including buyouts, according to Vermont’s emergency management agency. Lawmakers also passed legislation to prevent developers from building in very high-risk flood areas; the bill became law earlier this summer.

“[They’re] really sick of the taxpayer burden of these disasters,” Oates said of the passage of what’s called the Flood Safety Act.

Town managers and volunteers, meanwhile, are encouraging residents whose homes or businesses were destroyed to relocate by applying for federal- and state-funded buyouts, when those become available.

Retreating from the flood paths could be the best solution to prevent the devastation from happening again, said Arne Bomblies, an associate professor of civil and environmental engineering at the University of Vermont. Vermont communities ought to consider relocating homes, businesses, and roads further from rivers and outside of flood-prone areas, he said, but acknowledged that idea is “politically fraught.”

There’s also the question of where to go: Many of the towns throughout the Green Mountains and in the Northeast Kingdom are tightly nestled close to rivers because it was the flattest place to build, and because the state’s early industries relied on the power generated by dammed rivers.

“We’ve kind of built ourselves into a very rigid situation,” Bomblies said.

Vermont Governor Phil Scott requested federal disaster declarations for both storms. In a statement on Aug. 3, he wrote: “Although FEMA assistance won’t make towns and homeowners whole for the repair costs, if approved, this will help lessen their financial burden.”

Yet such a declaration is not a guarantee, and if the state is successful, the process of doling out the cash can be frustratingly slow. Some towns are just now receiving federal assistance for flooding in 2023, town managers said.

Jeremy Reed, the highway division director and chief engineer for Vermont’s Agency of Transportation, said that flooding last year caused about $200 million in damage to state-owned transportation infrastructure. Each of the 2024 storms likely caused about $15 million in transportation damage, he said, although those are rough estimates that don’t include municipal damages.

Vermont’s infrastructure planners have leaned on the state’s strong regulations governing rebuilding roads. Among the rules: drainage systems under roads need to be larger to handle more rain, roads must be elevated vertically above where water could come during a storm, bridges must be rebuilt with deeper foundations, and ditches should be lined with stone to minimize erosion.

Thanks to those efforts since 2016, Vermont now has among the best road-building standards in the country for weathering heavy precipitation, experts said.

So far, Reed said, the regulations have worked. “When we build it back to our current standards, they do withstand these flood events.”

However, while the state and municipalities have slowly chipped away at rebuilding, very few roads have actually been upgraded, said Wemple, of the University of Vermont.

Particularly hard to address are steep roads that are managed by rural towns with small budgets, she said. “It’s very expensive.”

In St. Johnsbury, the town manager knows that as well as anyone. Whitehead, a civil engineer himself, is nervous that the town’s engineers will find a bridge that has to be entirely rebuilt, which can spike the cost of repairs. “It can add up really fast,” he said.

With a town budget of about $11 million, “we’re definitely extending ourselves.”

Whitehead is banking on a federal disaster declaration. It would mean at least a partial refund from the federal government for municipal expenses, and would allow qualifying residents and businesses to apply for buyouts. He already knows of a handful of businesses and residents interested in relocating.

One house that would likely be bought out if a declaration is made is owned by Richard Boisseau, 77, and his wife, Diane, 77, who have lived in their St. Johnsbury home for 50 years.

“This has been very hard on my family,” said Diane Boisseau.

The house is likely unsafe since the foundation is compromised and the home took on so much water, Richard Boisseau said. The carport on their property also collapsed into a stream.

Diane Boisseau was a first grade teacher and feels tied to the town through former students and neighbors. But they’re one of the Vermont households that have decided to retreat. They’re going all the way to New Hampshire, where Richard Boisseau’s family gifted them a bit of property to build a new home.

To make that work, the couple will take a big chunk out of retirement savings, which upsets Diane Boisseau. The silver lining is that they’ll be closer to family. She said that her grandson, 14, is already pitching them on good spots to build and warning, of some areas, “not here, it’s wet.”

Erin Douglas can be reached at erin.douglas@globe.com. Follow her @erinmdouglas23.